


Book XII: The Hanged Man

by DarkeShayde



Series: The Arcana: A Retelling [12]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Confessions, Dimension Travel, Discovery, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kissing, Magic, Memory Loss, Minor Injuries, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Other, Plague, Recovered Memories, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 12:29:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17807972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkeShayde/pseuds/DarkeShayde
Summary: Julian reveals why he turned himself in for the Count’s murder and Shayde is less than thrilled with the scheme he has hatched. After Asra suggests an alternative, Julian and Shayde venture into the realm of one of the Arcana.





	1. Full House

I run down side streets and shortcuts, my feet flying over the cobblestones. After that disastrous trial, I’ll need to move quickly to save Julian from execution. He said he had a plan … but what? I’m not so sure I trust Julian’s planning abilities. His plans tend to be very self sacrificing. I can only hope that Asra will have some insight to all of this. Just up ahead of me, is the shop. Almost there.

“Welcome back, Shayde.” Asra’s voice greets me as I enter. I notice right away that he is not alone. “You’ve, ah, got some visitors.”

“Shayde!” Portia cries. Right behind her, is Mazelinka.

“It’s good to see you, dear.” She says. There’s a squawking ruckus behind me, and a black blur zooms over my shoulder and into the shop. This raven … I’ve seen him around Julian before. He is the one from the Rowdy Raven Tavern, the one that acts as an warning in case of Palace guards. He careens into a glass jar and knocks it off the shelf. Dried sparkweed and glass shards scatter on the ground.

“Malak, you windbag! Behave!” Shouts Mazelinka. With an indignant croak, he lands on my shoulder, feathers thoroughly ruffled. I know the feeling.

“We tried to find you after the trial, but the crowd was too thick.” Portia explains.

“Pasha thought we might find you at your shop.” Mazelinka adds. The nickname catches me by surprise. That’s what Julian calls her. Come to think of it, doesn’t Mazelinka refer to Julian as Ilya, just like Portia does? Now that I’m looking for it, there’s an easy familiarity between them. A story for another day maybe.

“Tea’s ready. Take a seat, you look like you need it.” Asra says. He’s right as usual. My legs are shaking with exhaustion. When was the last time I slept? I can’t remember if I have eaten recently either. I gratefully accept a steaming mug of tea, and sink into a chair.

“I’ll just be upstairs, then-” Asra begins, but I cut him off.

“Asra … I could really use your help. Please.” At first, I think he is going to refuse, but he must see my desperation.  
“Shayde, I … of course.” He replies, hesitation clear in his voice. Faust wiggles out of his sleeve and onto the table towards me. She seems as worried as he does. It’s almost funny how expression she is, especially for a snake.

“So, the gang’s all here!” Portia announces, with a playful grin. “Let’s get down to business. Time for Operation: Save Ilya! First things first. Did he tell you anything when you talked to him, Shayde?”

“He said he had a plan.” I say with an aggravated shrug. ‘A plan’ could mean anything.

“What kinds hare-brained plan involves being found guilty of murder?” Portia asks. My thoughts exactly. Probably something that makes sure he pays the whole price while not considering that we will pay the cost of losing him.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” I declare. “Before the trial, I found something else. Asra, do you recognize this?” I tug the book I found in Julian’s office out of my bag, and set it on the table.

“Where did you find this?” Asra breathes out the question.

“Julian’s old office.” I answer. Well, it seems like this is indeed one of Asra’s books. Asra gently runs his fingers over the cover, and starts flipping through the book. As he reaches the back pages, where Julian’s scribbles are the most abundant, his expression sours. Closing the book, he takes a deep, calming breath.

“I … think I can guess what his plan is, but I want to be sure.” Asra says, cryptic as ever, though this time he might be justified. “Shayde, why don’t you and I go talk to him? I’ve got a few things to tell him, and I’m sure you do too.”

“Do I ever.” I say as I stand. “Portia, do you know where he’s being held?”

“At the Palace. Milady wanted to ask him some questions at dinner.” She readily replies. “Well, while you guys figure things out with Ilya, I’m going to keeping working on a plan B.”

“I’ll go with you, Pasha. Maybe some of my old pirate tricks will come in handy, eh?” Mazelinka says. Malak caws in my ear, then hops off my shoulder and lands on Mazelinka’s. As Asra shrugs on his coat, Faust slithers up around his torso and peers over her shoulders.

“Alright, let’s get going.” Asra says. As a group, we exit the shop, but part ways at the door. Portia heads off with Mazelinka, while Asra and I make our why to the Palace where Julian is. When we reach the Palace, the chamberlain leads us to the dining room. The table is set for dinner, but the lavish spread is untouched. Nadia seems to be absorbed in questioning Julian, and he is avoiding her gaze.

“Good evening, Nadia. Julian.” Asra says by way of announcing our presence. At the sound of Asra’s voice, all remaining color drains from Julian’s face.

“I, er, I have to leave right now, immediately, do excuse me, Countess.” Julian stutters out. Scrambling to his feet, he makes a dash for the door- Only to jolt to a halt as the table rattles alarmingly. One of his wrists is handcuffed to the table leg. … Oh. That’s right. Asra and Julian haven’t actually spoken in three years. Well, this is about to get interesting … and likely uncomfortable for a few parties involved.

“Do sit down, Doctor.” Nadia says calmly. “Our conversation is far from over.” He wilts under her steely gaze, and slowly, reluctantly, sinks into his chair. He refuses to raise his eye to look at anyone.

“Shayde, Asra.” Nadia says, turning her attention to us. “How good to see you both again. Please, join us for dinner.” As we take our places at the table, the servants bring us plates of richly-spiced food, steaming hot, then retreat.

“I know the trial didn’t go … quite as planned. So I was just asking the Doctor a few of my remaining questions. Perhaps you’d like to ask him something as well?” Nadia offers. I have so many questions, I barely know where to start. Perhaps bluntness will yield results. Plus, I’m too annoyed to be tactful right now.

“Why did you lie during the trial?” I demand. Julian stares determinedly at his plate rather than at me.

“This, uh, this steak is cooked to perfection, Countess, if I do say so myself.” He says, in an effort to avoid the question. Seriously, Julian?

“I’m sure the kitchen staff will be glad to hear that.” Nadia replies, ever the gracious hostess. “I, on the other hand, would prefer to hear your answer.”

“Errr, uh, these flaky pastries are just divine, aren’t they?” Julian tries again at deflection. I find myself rolling my eyes and sitting back in my chair, perhaps more forcefully than necessary. Next to me, Asra hums thoughtfully.

“Hmm, that’s strange. I thought you’d be eager to tell us about how you murdered the Count.” He says, his expression almost like that a parent that knows their child is lying to them. “It’s not like you to miss a chance to tell tall tales.”

“I would very much like to hear that story again.” Nadia agrees. “Perhaps with fewer plot holes. You threw a _torch_ , Doctor? Was a convenient magical flame not available?” I snort out a quiet laugh. Seems that his determination to avoid magic is coming back to bite him. If he had been taught even the most basic of magic, then he would have been about to conjure a flame.

“W-well, you see, that is …” Julian begins. “Oh, is this a Golden Goose?” Nadia levels him with a disapproving frown that would send hardened soldiers running for cover. I can tell he’s starting to sweat. Good, maybe now we can get somewhere.

“Cat got your tongue, Julian? I hope not, you’ve still got questions to answer.” Asra says. I think it’s about time for me to add to this conversation.

“We all know you didn’t kill the Count. Tell us the truth.” I say. Under the weight of our combined scrutiny, Julian folds like a bad hand of cards.

“Okay, I’ll talk! I’ll talk!” Nadia waves a hand, and the servants attending the room slip out, leaving Nadia, Asra, Julian, and I alone.

“I mean, well, I’ll talk, but …” Julian trails off for a beat. “Honestly, you probably won’t believe me. I don’t even believe me. It’s all a bunch of mystic malarkey.” Seriously? I understand that magic isn’t something Julian puts much stock in, but I had thought he was opening his mind a little more since we met.

“Mystic malarkey, huh?” Asra muses. “Is that anything like what Shayde and I do?” Julian blushes up to his ears at those words.

“I didn’t mean it like that. Or, um, I did, kind of, but … Alright. You want the truth? What really happened?” Julian takes a breath before continuing. “That night, I was locked in my office, looking for a cure. I managed to escape and sneak up to the Count’s room. But when I arrived, the room was already on fire.” That part I knew already. I want to know what he found in that dungeon that made him decide _this_ was the best course of action.

“… The truth finally emerges.” Nadia declares. “Why, then, have you pled guilty?”

“Because the plague is coming back.” Snarls Julian. The words fall like stones in the silence. “It’s only a matter of time before the first person falls ill. We need a cure … and three years ago, I found one. On the night of the fire, I was dying. I kept having visions. Seeing a raven-headed man. I know it sounds like a fever dream, but it wasn’t. It was real. He was real. He helped me find the cure … but my memory ends there. I can’t remember what it was. If I see him again … I’ll get those memories back. I’m sure of it.” Raven-headed man? I pull out the cards. I don’t even have to look at them; the Hanged Man seems to leap into my hand.

“The figure you saw. Is this him?” I ask, holding up the card for everyone to see. Julian looks stunned and just a little bit relieved.

“Wh … huh? Who is that? How did you just have that ready?” He demands. I don’t get a chance to reply.

“I thought so. Julian, in that vision, you met the Hanged Man.” Asra sets the book I gave him earlier on the table with a _thump_. The sudden sound and shaking of the table, makes me jump and, from the corner of my eye, I see similar reactions from both Julian and Nadia, though the Countess hides it better.

“What is this?” Nadia asks.

“A book of rituals.” Asra explains. “Which Julian took from me, three years ago, without my knowledge. And made … _additions_ to.” Like me, Asra treasures his books, so writing in one is a crime according to him. He is handling it better than I would honestly.

“I was just trying to make sense of it. Clarify it. Improve it, even.” Julian defends.

“By getting ink stains all over it and dog-earring all the pages?” Asra deadpans. “Or are you referring to your lovingly-rendered artwork?”

“I, uh … I was mildly delirious when I drew that …? Ahem. The important thing is, from what I was able to translate, that book describes ways to travel t other realms.” Julian says.

“Magicians, like Shayde and I, can learn to visit these realms through a personal gateway.” Asra explains. “It’s much harder for non-magicians. To even have a chance, they have to approach the boundary between realms. Like between dreams and waking …”

“Or life and death.” Julian finishes for Asra. “Before you ask, I tried the dreams thing, but it didn’t help. Nightmares all the way down.” I see where this is going. I understand what Julian’s plan is now and I am _not_ okay with it. Not okay in the slightest. I sit in stunned silence as the conversation continues around me.

“But … even if it works, your cure will be lost to us. Your plan will kill you.” Nadia observes. Julian grins at her, pleased to have what he believes is an ace up his sleeve.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He replies. “Could I borrow your dinner knife, Countess? No funny business, promise.” Nadia arches a brow, and offers him the knife handle-first. With a completely unnecessary flourish, Julian slices open his palm. As crimson blooms from the wound, he tilts his head back, exposing the magic mark glowing at his throat. Before our eyes, the cut begins to close. Within seconds, only smooth skin remains. Even though I know he’ll be fine, not even a scar to show for it, I’m still bothered by him hurting himself like that.

“See? I’ve healed from much, much worse than this.” Julian boasts. “Although you would know, wouldn’t you, Asra? After all, this is your handiwork.”

“I didn’t give you that mark.” Asra says, eyes wider than usual. He is surprised. It seems I was right about that mark.

“A fitting gift from a … a …” Julian trails off. “… Huh? But, wait. If you didn’t, who did?”

“I wish I knew.” Is the reply.

“Doctor … Can this mark truly save you from hanging?” Nadia asks.

“If there’s a limit to what it can heal, I haven’t found it yet.” Julian replies, his bravado in full swing once again. He is far too careless with his own life and all because he thinks he doesn’t matter, or that everyone else is more important.

“Once is all it takes.” I breath out the words. If he’s right, he’ll return with the cure for the plague. If he’s wrong … “It’s too dangerous.”

“It’s dangerous for _me_ , but the plague coming back? That’s dangerous for _everyone_. All that suffering … I’d do anything to keep it from happening again.” Julian argues. Whereas he isn’t wrong, that wasn’t my point. I meant that it was too dangerous for him. There has to be a way for him to regain his memories that doesn’t involve a near death experience.

“If the plague truly is returning … I can understand why you would be willing to take such a risk.” Nadia says. “Especially to keep your special someone safe.” She looks directly at me. A cold shock of dread washes down my spine, freezing me in place … She knows.

“Truthfully, I had only guessed, but your reaction is all the confirmation I need.” The Countess says, lips curling in an amused smile.

“Nadia, I …” Before I can even try to explain, Nadia holds up a hand to stop me.

“No need, Shayde. I understand why you didn’t tell me.” She tells me. “Though I admit, I don’t know how you thought you were hiding it. You were hardly subtle.” _Nothing_ gets past Nadia, it seems. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. She’s only teasing, not angry.

“Well … why don’t we try an alternate plan, first?” Asra offers. His voice is heavy with worry. He sounds reluctant to even voice the thought. I however would love to hear a plan that keeps Julian from the hangman’s noose. “It’ll be dangerous, but … I can use myself as an anchor, and send Julian directly to the Hanged Man’s realm.”

“You, uh, you can do that?” Julian asks.

“Yes. Though it would work better if …” Asra glances at me, a look of sad resignation of his face. “If Shayde were to go with you.”

“What?! No!” Julian states.

“It can hardly be riskier than your current plan, Doctor.” Nadia argues.

“Well, yes, that’s true, but I know how this mark works. I don’t know the first thing about this, this magic thing. I don’t trust like that.” Julian replies.

“If you don’t trust me, then do you at least trust Shayde?” Asra asks. Julian’s eye darts between us. I can see him weighing the options. Him possibly dying or me maybe getting hurt in this other realm. I can tell he’s still not enthusiastic, but …

“We should at least try.” I tell him.

“Then we are in agreement. I shall provide any assistance you need.” Nadia declares, making the final decision for everyone.

“Then why don’t you and I go get everything ready? The fountain in the garden should be perfect.” Asra suggests. Nadia nods.

“Very well. Shayde, I’m sure you’d like some time with the Doctor.” She says, with a smirk. “Please meet us outside when you’re ready.” Nadia rises, and comes around the table to unlock the chain holding Julian to the table leg. She pushes open the door to the dining room, and glides through. Asra glances back at us … Then follows her into the hall. Julian and I leave the dining room together. Our footsteps echo down the empty hallways. Every few steps, he glances furtively at my face, only to hastily look away whenever I turn to meet his eye. This is the first time we’ve been alone together since the trial started.

“When did you think up this plan?” I ask, voice carefully devoid of any emotion.

“When I, uh. When I went down to my old office.” He answers hesitantly. He is still not making eye contact with me. It is starting to get on my nerves.

“Before you turned yourself in?” I clarify.

“Er … yes.” Before I can say more, he stops walking, pivots to face me, and takes a deep breath. I pause in my steps to wait for him … and hear what he has to say.

“I … I should have told you earlier Shayde. I’m sorry.” He says.

“Yes, you should have.” I agree. “I want to help you, Julian. Me, Portia, Mazelinka … even Asra. We’re all here for you.” I feel like a broken record with how many times I or Portia have told him this. One of these days, maybe it will sink in.

“I … I was so convinced I had to do this alone. Because if I, if I’m wrong … if the worst happens … I didn’t want you to feel responsible.” Julian explains. I would have felt responsible either way, but he doesn’t need to know that now. “But you … You still came to help. How about that? Speaking of which, this alternate plan of Asra’s … Have you ever done this before? The whole, enter another realm thing?”

“Well … no.” I admit. Asra’s talked about other realms and personal gateways before, but ever in any detail. I’ve only ever heard the voices of the Arcana. I’ve never seen them directly. I can’t say that I’m not a little apprehensive, but I prefer this to the alternative.

“I mean, who’s to say it’ll even work? And even if it does … How real is this other realm, anyhow? How much can it affect us?” Julian’s questions being pouring out. “What is you, uh, what if someone gets hurt in it? Or worse? What then? Didn’t Asra say it was dangerous?” He is on the verge of panicking just thinking about all of this.

“Julian … your hands are shaking.” I observe.

“What, me?” Julian scoffs. “My hands are as sure as the sunrise, Shayde. When does anything bother me?” He says that, but the fine tremble in his fingers tells another story. I’m not fooled at all. This plan makes him more nervous than he wants to admit. Mainly, I’m guessing, because I am involved directly. I glance around. The hallway is still empty, but maybe we should go somewhere more private to talk. Luckily, we’re only a few doors down from my guest room. I decide to take him there for a few minutes.

“Come with me.” I tell him. Still muttering about possible worst-case scenarios, he follows me into the guest room Nadia gave to me when I first arrived, and I shut the door behind us. He pauses mid-sentence to look around, blinking in surprise.

“Er, is this, this is your room, isn’t it? I’m not intruding, am I? Should I go?” Julian asks.

“Yes, no, and no.” I answer as I walk across the room. “Come here.” I sit on the bed, patting the mattress next to me. Julian awkwardly folds his long legs under him as he sits.

“Shayde, what are you …?” He begins. I don’t answer, instead I guide his hand to rest on my chest, over my heart, and interlace our fingers.

“Breathe with me.” I take a deep, slow breath, hold it for a few seconds, them exhale. He stares at our overlapping hands, transfixed, as my chest rises and falls with each breath. As we sit there, breathing together, his heart rate slows and synchronizes with mine. Bit by bit, the tension eases from the line of his shoulders. Finally, he shudders and slumps against me, burying his face against the side of my neck.

“I’m okay, Julian. I’m right here. Nothing bad has happened.” I say.

“Yet.” He grunts out, giving me a look.

“If you really don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.” I tell him, but I dislike his other plan just as much, if not more, than he dislikes this one. This one, though riskier for me and Asra, is probably less risky for Julian.

“No, we should. I know we should. I’m just being silly, aren’t I?” He says flippantly.

“Being worried isn’t silly.” I reply. Worry shows care.

“I … just don’t want you to get hurt.” He says, finally admitting what the real problem is. “I-it’s not that I think you can’t take care fo yourself! I don’t think that. At all. But if you come with me, into this other realm, and something happens …”

“Then we’ll face it together.” I declare firmly, cutting him off before he can get himself all worked up again.

“So we can watch out for each other?” Julian asks.

“That’s right.” I nod.

“… I can live with that.” Julian says. The peaceful silence stretches for a few more seconds, until Julian sit upright, peering curiously at me. He is looking at me like I’m some puzzle that keeps changing to confuse him.

“You know, I still don’t quite get it.” He begins. “Out of all the people in the world … you chose me. Despite everything, you chose me. Must be my personal magnetism, eh?” If he can grin like that, he must be feeling better. Well, then.

“I’ll show you magnetism.” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. His grin only grows bigger, delighted by my reaction.

“Ohhhh, I’m sure you will.” He says. I rest my fingers on his jaw, tilting his head to just the right angle. His laugh melts into a groan as our lips meet. He curls an arm around my waist, pulling me practically into his lap. Not that I mind at all. I could stand to be a little closer.

“Mmmnn, Shayde, you always know just what I want.” He says, voice laced with a moan. I wrap my arms around his shoulders to steady myself, and kiss him again. I’m going to show him exactly how much he matters to me. Seconds drift by, then minutes. Then he pulls back, albeit quite reluctantly.

“Er, well, as much as I’d like to stay here for the rest of the night …” Julian says. “We still have things to do. Rituals to conduct, ominous words to chant.” He right, but it’s a pleasant surprise to hear him say it.

“Maybe we’ll finish this later, eh?” He cocks an eyebrow at me, but doesn’t give me a chance to reply. “Hmm, that doesn’t sound as good without a wink … Shayde … thank you.” It’s good to see a smile on his face again. I hope to see that smile many more times.

“Any time, Julian.” I answer. Climbing off the bed, I offer him a hand. He takes it, pulling himself to his feet, and we walk through the halls to the garden together. When we finally emerge into the garden, Asra and Nadia are talking. Their words are lost under the murmur of the fountain. Asra’s shed his jacket and at his feet, a protective circle is etched into the dirt. Bowls of water sit at the cardinal points. I recognize it as a transportation spell, but the symbols etched around each bowl are unfamiliar to me.

“You two were gone a while. Did you get all caught up?” Asra asks with a sly smile. I’m saved from answering when a frazzled-looking servant runs up to Nadia and whispers to her. I catch the words ‘synchronized swan flock’ and ‘lemon, not lavender’.

“Duty calls, I’m afraid.” Nadia tells us. “The Masquerade is almost upon us, and there I still work to do. I will ensure that you are not disturbed. Take as long as you need.”

“Thank you, Nadia.” Asra says. With the servant trailing behind her, listing one crisis after another, Nadia ascends the stairs to the Palace.

“Shayde, you sit here. And Ilya, you sit here.” Asra directs. “Now, I’m going to send you into this other realm. You’ll be asleep here while your minds travel. I’ll be your anchor. Shayde, I’ll attach a sort of … safety line, to you. If you’re in danger, just yank on it, and I’ll know to pull you back. But that doesn’t mean you should let your guard down. Other realms don’t always follow the same rules as ours. They can be dangerous. So, Ilya, whatever happens, follow Shayde’s lead. She’s a skilled magician. She’ll protect you. Is everyone ready?” I nod and turn to Julian.

“I think so.” Julian says. “Are you ready? I’m ready. I- Ack! Something’s got me!” Julian holds out his arm, shaking it frantically, to try and dislodge … Faust! She’s coiled around Julian’s upper arm, squeezing tightly. The building tension dissipates instantly.

“Faust, how good of you to join us.” Asra laughs. Faust slithers back unto Asra’s shoulders, blepping playfully at Julian.

“Now everyone’s ready. Close your eyes.” Asra instructs.

“Er, like this? Is this okay? Am I doing this right?” Julian asks.

“You’re fine, Julian.” I assure him. I focus on the familiar presence across from me. Asra’s magic washes over us.

“Shayde … Please be careful.” Asra’s voice says as the world falls away.


	2. When To Fold

… I feel like I’m floating. Awareness returns to me all at once. I _am_ floating, submerged in deep water. Somehow, it feels … _almost_ familiar. As if it’s one just step away from a dream I’ve had before. And, like a dream, if I think I don’t need to breathe … I won’t. Shafts of light pierce the murky water. Finally, I can see Julian thrashing in the water ahead of me. I catch his flailing arm, and pull him towards the surface. We break the surface of the water, and I brace Julian as he gasps and splutters for air. He grabs my shoulders, frantic with worry.

“Shayde, are you alright?” He asks. I rest my hands on his arms, smiling reassuringly at him. The fact that I’m not gasping for breath has escaped him.

“I’m okay.” I reply brightly.

“You, you didn’t inhale any water, did you? No? Any bumps or-?” He trails off, giving me an odd look. “…you, uh, you’re awfully relaxed for someone who nearly drowned.”

“I didn’t nearly drown.” I tell him, still smiling. “I just … decided I didn’t need to breathe.”

“What kind of logic is that?” Julian demands. I shrug. It isn’t logic, not really. “Is that a magic thing? Or is that a … here thing? Where are we?” I get to my feet and take a good look at our surroundings. A thick tangle of mangrove trees press in all around us, their branches draped with vines. The water is now only waist-deep. It should’ve been impossible for us to be submerged at all. But maybe that’s just how things work here. That’s going to take some getting used to.

“This must be the Hanged Man’s realm. The ritual worked.” I reason. Good. With any luck, we’ll find the Hanged Man and Julian can forget about being a martyr.

“Really?” Julian asks. “I mean, uh, of course it worked. And that safety line Asra was talking about? Did that work?” I look down to check. A translucent, silvery threat dangles from my right wrist. I can feel a faint echo of Asra’s magic course along the thread. If I tug on the loose end, he’ll be able to pull us back.

“Yes. It’s right here.” I hold up my wrist to show Julian, but he just looks confused.

“I, uh, don’t see anything, I’ll take your word for it.” Julian replies. “Hmm, there’s not path, so I guess one direction’s as good as another. How about …” He closes his eye, then spins in circles until he wobbles dizzily. I take a step or two back to avoid being hit. Just when I’m afraid he’ll fall, he flings out his arm, pointing, and opens his eye. If it takes him a moment longer to focus his vision, he doesn’t mention it.

“That way!” He declares. “Shall we?”

“Let’s go.” I agree. We set off into the forest together, wading through water and ducking under vines. It’s impossible to keep any coherent sense of direction here, so we are clearly not heading in anything that looks vaguely like a straight line, but we walk on regardless.

“Hey, Shayde, do you-? You see that, right? What is that?” Julian says after we had been walking for a while. Some twenty feet in front of us, I can see something … flickering. Julian gapes in amazement when we get a clear look. A spherical distortion hangs in midair. Inside it is a tea set, frozen mid-fall. Streams of spilling tea, wisps of steam, and tumbling cups, saucers, and sugar cubes, hang completely motionless. As if they were simply suspended in time. It is bizarre to say the least.

“What is this? How is it doing that?” Julian asks in wonder. His eye bright with curiosity, he reaches out to touch the bubble. A frisson of alarm shoots down my spine as he does. Instinctively, I catch his wrist.

“Shayde?” He asks, turning to look at me.

“Don’t touch it.” I say. “We don’t know what might happen.”

“Oh. Er, you’re completely right, of course.” Julian agrees. “First rule of adventuring. Don’t touch anything until you’re sure it won’t eat you.” I nod in agreement and we continue on. As we walk, we pass more bubbles, all playing host to objects frozen in time. A lightning bolt mid-strike, the forking branches of electricity as thin and delicate as fern fronds. A writing desk, it’s surface clear but for a stack of blank paper and a quill balanced on an ink pot. An hourglass, sand caught pouring from a crack in its lower bulb. Not a single grain moves in the bubble. Everything within these spheres is still.

“I wonder what all these things mean. And who put them here-?” Julian muses aloud. “Shayde, look!” He points past me, at a ribbon of clear water that cuts through the murky water. More and more curious. It winds under an arch of mangrove roots and on into a darker part of the forest. I can’t see more than twenty feet down it. It’s the closest thing to a path I’ve seen since we arrived. We may as well have some guidance.

“If I’ve learned anything, it’s that paths like these are always shortcuts.” He says with a grin, echoing my thoughts. “What do you say, Shayde? How about an adventure? It might be a little dangerous, but …”

“I like a little danger.” I reply, with a smile. I won’t be here with him if I didn’t.

“Oho, that’s what I like to hear!” Julian coos. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained, eh?” Ducking under the arch of roots, we follow the path of clear water deeper into the forest.

“You know, so far, this … hasn’t been all that different from one of my usual adventures.” Julian says. “I mean, there’s been more spookiness, and magic, and spooky magic, but still. Actually, it reminds me of the time I paddled a canoe down the Atapran coast. Did I ever tell you about that?” I shake my head, so Julian goes on.

“There I was, in a leaky canoe, with one paddle and the regent’s favorite terrier, and …” As we walk, he tells me the story of a grand dog napping, full of swashbuckling and intrigue. A very Julian type tale. The path takes a sudden curve around a broad-trunked tree, and keeps going until we make a full lap. There, on an island of dry land right in front of us, is an ancient staircase. I know it wasn’t there before, but apparently anything is possible here. We stare at each other for a moment, before Julian warily approaches it.

“What a mysterious find, eh? Anything strange about it? Besides, well, the obvious?” Julian asks. I look carefully at the staircase for a moment, feeling about it with my magic.

“Not that I can tell.” I reply after a beat, but something is tugging at the back of my mind. Something that should be obvious. Julian hums as he prods the lowest step warily. Nothing happens. Interesting.

“You know, that reminds me. I ran up a staircase just like this in Atapra.” Julian begins, launching right back into his story. “So I’ve got the good under my arm, and I’m retreating up the stairs, dueling three men-” He hops onto the lowest step, and starts walking backwards up the stairs, miming a sword fight. Then it occurred to me what I was missing.

“Julian-” I begin. Too absorbed in his story, he keeps climbing and acting out his tale. If he goes much further …

“Julian, stop!” But I’m too late. Julian takes one more step up the staircase … And his foot meets nothing but air. With a yelp of surprise and his eye blown wide, he tumbles backwards, off the top of the staircase. I run around to the back, my heart in my throat. The sight that greets me almost makes me burst out laughing.

“I, huh. I’m okay?” Julian asks. A thick hammock of vines cradles him so that he never reached the ground. Although he’s hanging at an awkward angle, he doesn’t seem hurt at all. By the stars! I wish he wouldn’t do these kinds of things, but I guess he wouldn’t be Julian if he wasn’t a little on the reckless side.

“Sorry, Shayde. Got a little carried away there, didn’t I? Lucky these were here.” Julian says. He tugs on one of the vines for emphasis, and pauses …before he grins. I know that look and it means the best kind of trouble. With a few purposeful movements, he twists on the vines, entangling himself further. Despite his precarious position, he seems far from distressed. Quite the opposite, in fact.

“Oh no, Shayde, looks like I’ve gotten a little … tied up.” He taunts. “Whatever will I do?” The curve of his mouth is positively inviting; the arch of his back, utterly shameless. He tilts his head, drawing my eye to the long line of his neck. He knows exactly what he is doing.

“I don’t bite, but I won’t mind if you do.” Julian says. That is tempting, but I have a different idea. When I step closer, he bites his lip, looking eagerly up at me. But instead of biting him, I lean in to kiss him tenderly, and he groans against my lips. He squirms, trying to get closer, but he is thoroughly entangled in the vines.

“You know, I won’t mind if you want to play rough. Quite the opposite, in fact.” Julian purrs. I don’t reply out loud. Instead I brush my lips along the line of his jaw, and he lets out a soft, pleased sigh, relaxing back into the vines.  
“Hmm, but this, this is nice.” He concedes. “I could get used to this.” I pull back, not quite out of reach, and he strains against the vines so he can kiss me again. I met his lips willingly. We steal a few more indulgent moments to ourselves, before I reluctantly step back.

“We should probably keep moving. I don’t know how long we have here.” I tell him with a resigned sigh.

“Er, well, about that …” Julian begins, ears turning a nice shade of red. “Well, I uh, I need your help. I can’t get loose.” I can’t help but giggle. I thought that had been his plan all along.

“Hold still.” I say. I hold up a hand and focus, calling the sensation of heat, rather than an actual flame, to my palm. When I reach towards them, the vines binding Julian flinch back, curling away from the heat. With a quick twist, he wiggles free, and drops back into the water.

“Well, uh. That … that wasn’t really a shortcut, was it?” Julian observes. “But it was fun, right? Did you have fun?”

“I did.” I agree, smiling up at him. He grins, linking our arms, and we follow the trail of clear water away from the ancient staircase. The further into the forest we go, the darker and heavier the atmosphere seems. Out of nowhere, a thick fog creeps between the roots and branches, choking the air and making it almost hard to breathe.

“Why is this happening?” Julian asks, looking around. “Should this be happening?”

“I don’t know, but …” I trial off. Something catches my eye in the distance. I think I can see the silhouette of a person. They’re shrouded in fog, but … I can make out a raven’s head. Before I can point them out, Julian reacts.

“Shayde! That’s … Is that him? I-I think that’s him!” Julian rushes towards the figure, and stumbles in his haste, nearly falling onto his face.

“Augh, of all the times to get my foot caught …” He mumbles. He tugs, and then reaches down to try and dislodge whatever it is.

“What in the-?” Julian pauses a beat. “Shayde, be careful! Something’s wrong!” I try to move towards him, but jolt to a halt. I hadn’t even realized I was starting to sink. I can feel the ground underfoot shifting, starting to suck me under. With a shout of alarm, Julian starts struggling in earnest, trying to reach me. All around us, the trees suddenly come alive. Leaves rustle and wood groans, branches stretching towards us. With a great effort, he manages to wrench his hand free, and almost overbalances from the force. He catches himself on a tree root, but leaves behind a bloody handprint as he struggles upright. The mark on his throat flares, but … his scraped hand isn’t healing. That’s not good.

“Julian, your mark isn’t working!” I call.

“I don’t care!” Julian calls back. “Hang on, Shayde, I’ll save you!” This is getting us nowhere fast.

“Calm down and think!” I say. I’m not sure if I’m talking to me or him. Maybe both. My words seem to make it through his panic. He hesitates mid-flail, looking around wildly.

“Think? Think … The more we struggle, the more we get dragged in, which means-” Julian muses aloud. The ground shifts under my feet, and I lose my balance. The vines around me take advantage of that instantly.

“Shayde!” The last thing I see is him lunging towards me, before I’m dragged underwater. In a panic, I grab hold of the silvery cord around my wrist, and pull. I feel an answering tug, and everything goes dark again. When I open my eyes … I’m back in the garden. Julian is looking around wildly, still getting his bearings. Morning light plays in the fountain’s spray. We must have spent hours in the Hanged Man’s realm. I can’t remember if it felt that long or not.

“You’re awake! Thank goodness.” Comes Asra’s voice. “I felt you pull the safety line. What happened?”

“We saw the Hanged Man, or at least I think it was him, but …” Julian trails off.

“We got trapped in a bog. We couldn’t reach him. Is there anything you can do?” I ask, grasping for one last hope. Asra shakes his head.

“Of all the Arcana, the Hanged Man is one of the hardest for me to reach.” Asra sighs. “If we had a few months? I could probably help Ilya create a personalized way in, but …”

“We don’t have that long.” Julian interrupts. “Look, your way failed, so, let’s do things my way. Though, er, I guess that’s now the only way.” The air feels heavy. The reality of the situation is sinking in. I still don’t like this plan. Especially knowing that Julian’s mark won’t work in the Hanged Man’s realm.

“I’m afraid I have to go, for now.” Asra says. “I have some preparations to make. You should get ready, too.” How exactly does one ‘get ready’ to be hanged and hopefully survive said hanging? I’m genuinely curious.

“Asra … thank you, for trying.” I say before he can slip away.

“Of course.” He replies, his expression downcast and solemn. “I just wish it had worked. And Ilya … I hope you’re right about this.” For a moment, I think he’ll say something else. Then he shakes his head, and goes back to the Palace. We sit in silence for a few long moments. I really don’t know what to say. I’m terrified for Julian and wished that he didn’t have to do this. I wish that your trip into the Hanged Man’s realm had been successful. To be so close, and yet so far …

“Well-” Julian begins. We both freeze as someone suddenly skids around the corner and into view.

“Ilya, we! Are! Leaving!” Portia gasps out. She brandishes a set of lockpicks.

“Pasha, where did you get those?!” Julian demands. “Er, I mean, wait, hang on. I have to do this. Just let me expl-” But Portia isn’t having any of it.

“I don’t care if you’re guilty or not, Ilya, you’re my brother! I’m not gonna let you die!” Portia cuts him off. “Mazelinka’s outside with the getaway carriage, we’ve got you passage out of town-”

“Wait-” Julian tries again, but Portia simply keeps talking over him.

“-and I’ve got a disguise for you, now hold still while I unlock these … uh …” Portia pauses when she realizes that Julian isn’t in cuffs. “Uh, why aren’t you chained up?”

“… Portia?” Portia freezes. Slowly, reluctantly, she turns around to face … Nadia, standing at the top of the stairs. She’s heard everything. Well, this is awkward. I had actually forgotten that Nadia doesn’t know that Portia and Julian are related.

“M-m-milady, I …” Portia stutters. Nadia looks at Portia, and the lockpicks in her hands. Then her gaze sweeps over me, and Julian, who is standing very still next to me. It is clear what Portia’s intentions are, even if Nadia hadn’t heard her whole speech.

“Good morning, Portia.” Nadia says in greeting. The silence stretches agonizingly.

“Well, um. I, uh, I guess this is it.” Portia says, trying to put on a brave face. “I guess I should … tell you everything.”

“I already know.” Nadia says, graciously. “As I told Shayde, there is no cause for alarm.” A smile touches the corners of her mouth. “I know how … complicated … family can be. I’m not upset.” Thank goodness.

“I, I … milady, I …” Portia bursts into tears. “Th-thank you so much, milady! I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to keep it a secret!” Next to me, Julian sags in silent relief. I can feel a huge weight lifting from everyone’s shoulders … Especially Portia’s.

“Doctor, have you not informed Portia of your plan?” Nadia asks in mock confusion, bringing us all back to reality.

“Well, uh …” Julian explains everything to Portia. His mark, his vision of the Hanged Man … his cure. And his ridiculous and dangerous plan to regain his memories. At the end, Portia plants her hands on her hips. She looks deeply unimpressed. I know the feeling well.

“Are you serious?!” She demands. “Your plan involves the chance that you’ll _survive_ being _hanged?_ There must be another way!” I gesture at the spell circle etched at our feet.

“We tried, but … we failed.” I tell her. I sympathize with Portia. I would do just about anything to save Julian from having to go through this. I can’t bear to think about if it doesn’t work. The silence that engulfs us feels oppressive. Julian looks unusually serious, a faraway look in his eye.

“… It’s time.” Announces Nadia quietly.

“Shayde, Pasha …” Julian begins. “I understand if you don’t want to be there.”

“As if I’d leave you to face that all alone!” Portia bursts out, echoing my own sentiments. “I … I’m going to go find Mazelinka, tell her the news.” Oh, Mazelinka! She is going to be through the roof when she hears about this. Portia hurries off to find Mazelinka.

“I’m not staying behind either.” I declare. I intend to see this plan through to the end, for better or worse. Two guards come out from the Palace then to meet us. One of them is carrying Julian’s dark coat. After he shrugs into it, the guards approach him with chains, only to stop when Nadia waves the, off.

“There is no need for those.” She tells them. “The Doctor is cooperating. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, Countess.” Julian replies. We make our way from the gardens, out of the Palace, and towards the town square. When we arrive, the town square is packed with people. Some of them seem positively celebratory. Others are clutching handkerchiefs or each other, distress written clearly on their faces. In the crowd, I spot a familiar flash of red hair. Portia … And Mazelinka, her arm around Portia’s shoulders. Good. At least she isn’t alone. A wooden gallows has been hastily built in front of the fountain. Nadia and Julian stand on the platform, above the murmuring crowd. A hush falls when Nadia raises a hand.

“Doctor Devorak. Any last words?” Nadia asks.

“So here I am, Vesuvia!” Julian’s voice rings out. “Finally facing justice, after all these years.” I can hear shouts of ‘murderer’ and ‘coward’ from the crowd. I resist the urge to turn an glare at the ones that shouted it. With a flutter of his coat, he flings his arms wide, inviting the boos and jeers. Ever the one for dramatics.

“Condemn me if you like … but first, answer me this. Who among you can really say you miss the Count, and not just his parties?” Julian says. The boos die down, and a murmur goes through the crowd.

“What did he do for the sick and dying?” Julian demands.

“Nothing!” Someone in the crowd shouts.

“When did help come for the Flooded District?” He goes on.

“Never!” Comes another voice from those gathered.

“He was a plague on the city! A frivolous Count who threw lavish parties while Vesuvia withered!” Julian snarls. The crowd roars in response. People raise their fists, shouting agreement. Oh, sure. _Now_ they are on his side! Where was this response during the trial?

“So don’t think too unkindly of me, dear Vesuvia. I did it all for you, and I don’t regret a thing. History will vindicate me.” Julian concludes. He bows to the crowd. I know it’s part of the plan, but … dread gnaws at my stomach and won’t let go. The executioner approaches him, but Julian ignores them, searching the crowd until he spots me. He holds my gaze with a determination in his face. I steel my resolve, and don’t break eye contact. Everything else seems to fade away. The noises, the jostling crowd, the sun beating down on my shoulders … Only one thing matters. He’s going to survive this. He will. He must. The executioner pulls the lever.


End file.
